There was an old sawhorse beside the door, and she sat down comfortably on that, while Bob, picking up a handy stick of wood, drew a knife from his pocket and began to whittle.
The Indian was silent for a few minutes. Then he spoke slowly, his needle stabbing the heavy leather at regular intervals.
"Wherever there is oil, there were Indians once," he announced. "Ask any oil man and he will tell you. At Lake Erie, in Pennsylvania and some parts of New York State, where dwelt the Iroquois, many years after oil was found. It is true, for I have read and heard it."
"Were the Iroquois in New York State?" asked Bob interestedly. "I've always read of the Mohawks, but not about them."
The Indian glanced at him gravely.
"The Mohawks were an Iroquois tribe," he explained courteously. "Mohawks, Senecas, Tionontati, Cayuga, Oneida—all were tribes of the Iroquois. Yes I see you recognize those names—many places in this country have been named for Indians."
"Are you an Iroquois?" asked Betty, rather timidly, for she feared lest the question should be considered impolite.
"I am a Kiowa," announced the redman proudly. "Oklahoma and Kansas were the home of the Kiowas, the Pawnees and the Comanches.
